stories penned in permanent ink
by Symphony's Feather
Summary: We'll make our mark upon the world. — A collection of RWBY drabbles. [({drabble 5: blake-centric})]
1. into the fray

**A/N: Hi, RWBY people! My first foray into this fandom via fanfiction . . .**

 **So this is a random collection of RWBY drabbles. I will post as I finish these. No time-continuation unless otherwise noted, no slash pairings, no explicit content (sex, etc.). If you'd like to suggest a pairing/prompt, feel free to do so in a review! That being said, please do review. I like to hear reader's thoughts.**

 **FIRST ONE LET'S DO THIS GAIZ**

* * *

 **title:** into the fray

 **pairing:** ruby/scarlet

 **prompt:** zerochan art

* * *

She wore heavy armor that shouldn't have molded to her small shoulders so easily. Her white cape—reminiscent of her mother's— fluttered gently in the thin spring breeze. It was the calm before the storm; the peace before the chaos; the seething, simmering anger just before the hate.

Ruby hefted her scythe over her shoulder and glanced at him. The look in her silver eyes was joyless. _Are you ready?_ it asked.

Scarlet stared at her a minute, and pressed a kiss to her forehead. "Don't die out there, love," he said grimly, and they charged.


	2. upon a midnight clear

**title:** upon a midnight clear

 **pairing:** nora/ren (sloth!shipping)

 **prompt:** night, snow, fluffy coats, kissing / so my brain was just randomly like "OKAY GURL YOU'RE IN THE CHRISTMAS SPIRIT NOW OKAY? OKAY." so instead of working ahead on homework like I could've, being the good student I am, I sat down and wrote 700+ words of sloth!shipping. go me. have some christmas cheer.

* * *

"—and then, and then, do you remember how I rode in on my hammer and then we kicked Grimm butt?"

"I remember, Nora," Ren said, smiling with quiet humor. His oldest friend was a great big ball of energy, all pink and orange and black and white bundled up in a loud magenta coat and a striped scarf. She talked too loud and a little too fast, waving her hands and spinning around in the middle of a sentence. She liked to dwell on the past, too; her memories were part fact, part exaggeration. Still, Ren didn't mind much.

(Actually, he didn't mind at all. In his mind's eye he saw the skinny, scared slip of a girl who'd shown up to the orphanage with her hands trembling, chilled to the bone, sniffing hard to keep the sobs down. He'd given her a hug then. It had taken her a while for her to come out of her protective shell, but once he'd managed to coax her into the light, she'd brightened right up, even outshone it. That was the way she was now—a blinding beam of neon and laughter—and he wanted to keep it that way.)

"It's cold out here, don'cha think?" Nora asked, not really waiting for a response. "I'm glad I wore my scarf. It keeps me _nice_ and toasty." Her boots crunched in the snow that glittered in the dark. They were walking across campus to go back to their dorm. "Still, I hope we get to the room soon. Then we can warm up and put our PJs on and watch movies with Team RWBY and maybe even make _pancakes_ later—"

"Nora," Ren interrupted.

She stopped talking and turned to look at him with big blue-green eyes. "What?"

"It's snowing," he said softly, pointing up at the stars. Sure enough, the first few white flakes were slowly drifting down, light as feathers. Nora watched, spellbound, silent for a split second.

"Wow," she breathed, breaking the quiet as he knew she would, craning her head back. "It's so pretty! Don't you think it's pretty?"

He smiled. Nora knew what he meant. "I mean," she continued, "it's all white and pure, and it's sparkly in the nighttime." She glanced over at him, a smile of her own curving her lips. "Y'know?"

The moon shone off her hair and gleamed against the stars in her eyes. It made her translucent, glass-like, and all of a sudden all Ren could think was how desperately he loved her.

He stepped closer, the sound of his shoes against frozen ground too loud in the night, and curled his hands around her face.

"Ren?" Nora whispered. Her breath fogged into opaque white clouds. Her eyes were the color of sea glass. She was a fragile kind of beautiful. Ren wanted to pick up all her jagged pieces and glue the together, one by one, till she was perfect again. Another part of him thought she already was.

He leaned down and kissed her before he lost his nerve.

For a minute she didn't respond—dread wormed at him from the inside—but then she kissed him back just as fiercely, fervent and passionate as in anything else. He broke away nearly gasping for air, but she did, too, and that made the flush on his face a little easier to bear.

For a minute they just stared at each other. This was uncertain territory, Ren knew, like a coin toss, each golden side gleaming in the air. There was a 50% chance that things would go wrong, and a 50% chance that things would go right.

Then Nora grabbed his hand with her mitten-covered one, and they continued walking. After a minute she started up her ceaseless chatter—"So, do you think it'll snow a lot or a little? I really hope Ruby brings the peanut butter cookies with the chocolate candy in the middle. I can't wait to see which movies we'll watch tonight!"—and it was like normal again. Except for the hand-holding. But Ren didn't mind that at all.

(And if they were still blushing when they got back to the dorm, well, they could just blame it on the cold.)


	3. stuff's goin down (you'll hit the fan)

**title:** stuff's goin' down (you'll hit the fan)

 **pairing:** team cfvy friendship

 **prompt:** coco being coco :D / aka, stopping cardin from bullying velvet

 **notes:** this was really fun to write.

* * *

Coco slid into a seat at Cardin's table, and propped an elbow up. "So," she said casually.

Cardin levelled her a wary glance. "So?" he said suspiciously.

Coco smiled devilishly, the shiny red lipstick smile that the boys liked the best; it made them think she was an easy catch, someone they could steal with a wink and a weak pick-up line.

Too bad "easy" wasn't in Coco's vocabulary.

(Also, she _hated_ pick-up lines.)

"I hear you've been—ah, consorting with our teammate these last few weeks," she said innocently. "And I've got a _teeny_ "—she squeezed two fingers together—"problem with that."

Cardin swallowed. His Adam's apple bobbed; he was getting nervous. Just the way she wanted him. "Consorting?" he repeated, and tried for a crookedly handsome smile. Oh, so he thought she was pretty. _That_ was disgusting. "I wouldn't go so far—"

"Oh, definitely not," Coco smirked. "You've gone far enough, thank you."

He blinked in dazed confusion. "What do you—?"

She leaned closer and glanced at him over the top of her sunglasses. "I don't _like_ bullies," she said, dangerously soft. "If you know what I mean."

That was Fox and Yatsuhashi's cue to approach from behind. "You're not that smart, are you, kid," Fox mused.

"What's that supposed to mean?" Cardin demanded.

Coco's smile sharpened, but she didn't say anything: she wanted to drag him along as long as possible. "At this point," she sighed, stretching languorously, "you've got two choices. Option 1—you leave Miss Scarlatina alone. As in, _alone_ alone."

Cardin leaned back from the table, recognition dawning in his eyes: there it was, the end of the chase. Coco almost felt a little sad— _almost_. "Is that what this is about?" he asked incredulously, his wary smile relaxing. He scoffed. "It's just a little teasing, it's not like I'm hurting anyone."

Yatsuhashi stepped closer, eyes narrowing menacingly. "You want to—"

Coco held up a hand; Yatsuhashi was always the protective one. He would have his moment soon enough. "Option 2," she started, and then paused. She was good at creating suspense. "Let's just say you won't like Option 2," she said, eyes gleaming.

Cardin shifted in his seat. She heard the metal of his armor clank, knew without seeing that his hand was clenching under the table. "Are you threatening me?"

Coco inclined her head and hefted her purse on her hip. "I could be," she said sweetly, "but that all depends on which option you choose."

She flicked a switch and watched with a predator's amusement as her fashionably chunky handbag transformed into a gun. The barrel was centimeters from his nose.

"But," Coco sighed again, "I guess since you're _so_ indecisive, I'll just have to choose for you."

She leveled the gun, propped it up on her shoulder, and curled her finger around the trigger.

"Option 2 it is," Coco smiled, and squeezed.

* * *

 **ACTUALLY IT'S JUST BLANKS CARDIN RUNS OFF SCREAMING LIKE A CHILD ANYWAY**

 **On a completely unrelated note, does anyone know what Coco's weapon is actually called (after it transforms from her purse/briefcase/etc.)?**


	4. what we never were

**title:** what we never were

 **pairing:** onesided qrow/summer; mentions taiyang/summer; taiyang/raven if you squintily read between the lines

 **prompt:** the headcanon that qrow loved summer but summer didn't feel the same way and married tai instead, creating the ugly beauty of the first love triangle ever in remnant

 **notes:** i like hurt/comfort things (what's wrong with me i don't even know) bleh. have some summer/qrow angst as a new year's gift.

* * *

A scream splits the peace one night. Ruby jolts out of dreaming, sure that Grimm are about to come barreling out of the scary closet—

Beside her, Yang shifts in the sheets and mutters something silly in her sleep. Okay. Yang's still here. Her sister'll keep her safe, Yang with her curly hair and pretty eyes, ready to punch anything. It's okay. Maybe the noise was just her imagination. Ruby rolls over onto her side, eyes drooping and tired, when she hears the voices.

"—okay, alright?" Qrow's voice, faint from her parents' room, sounding gentle and a little strained, like he's worried. "Summer. I'm right here, sweetheart."

Summer. That's her mom's name. Why is her uncle the one talking to her mom instead of her daddy?

"I'm sorry," she hears Mom say, voice high and trembling. Is she going to cry? Ruby's never heard her mom cry before. She's pretty tough. "I just—I still—it's been years, but it's— _stupid_ , Qrow, so stupid. I'm sorry."

Ruby listens hard, but there's a long pause. What's her mom apologizing for? Did she steal some of Uncle Qrow special drinks, the ones Ruby and Yang aren't allowed to have? But Uncle Qrow cares a lot about those. Her mom wouldn't call other people's stuff stupid.

"Don't apologize," Qrow says at length. His voice is tired. "S'not your fault the coward's never here. He should be the one saying this stuff to you, Summer, for Remnant's sake."

"Don't call him a coward," her mom says, sounding a little angry. Ruby can tell because her voice gets all sharp. "You know he would beat himself up if he knew I was still having nightmares." She sighs heavily. "It's no one's fault, Qrow. I'm sorry I woke you."

"Summer—" Qrow starts to protest.

"Qrow, please." There's another pause. Ruby wonders what her mom is thinking about. "Thank you for . . . comforting me, but it's not right to have you here when my husband is out." Her words are a firm dismissal.

Uncle Qrow scowls, and Ruby can imagine it, the way his eyes go dark and his face pulls down. It's an ugly thing. "Summer . . ." he says softly, then sighs. "You know I would've married you, sweetheart, yeah?"

Another pause. Why do adults like silence so much? Finally, her mom says, "I know," all quiet, like she's guilty.

Qrow sighs again. "Don't beat yourself up, kid," he says, almost teasing like he does with Ruby and Yang, but there's something sad in his voice. Ruby can't place it, but—it sounds a little like regret.

Footsteps make their way into the hallway. The door to her mom's room shuts with a gentle click. Ruby burrows herself in the blankets before anyone can catch her eavesdropping, and drifts off to sleep with confusion in her head.


	5. miseria

**title:** miseria

 **pairing:** tiny hint of blake/sun; mostly blake-centric

 **prompt:** the season finale that probably broke everyone's hearts / also, blake being beautiful but tragic

* * *

Sun tries to stop her when she leaves.

He doesn't yell at her, doesn't reach for her, doesn't try and run after her. Instead he just stares at her, dark eyes beseeching— _don't go please don't go_ —but she can't think past the stump of Yang's arm and the gleam of Adam's mask and the shame flooding her like a hurricane. She slips away into the shadows of Beacon's ruins, and doesn't look back.

She checks into a hotel the next evening, pushing the last cards of Lien in her bag across the counter. The clerk looks her up and down, tangled hair and dirt and bruises, bandages standing out stark white against the black of her vest, and carefully asks if she needs a doctor.

"No," she says quietly. She tries not to wince at the roughness of her voice—it sounds like she hasn't used it for years.

The clerk must hear it too, but the fates must be on her side today: slowly—almost doubtfully—he pushes her the keycard to her room.

The first night there she has a dream so bad it makes acid rise in the back of her throat. She practically sprints to the bathroom, trying not to gag, retching anyway when she reaches the toilet. Barely anything comes out because she hasn't eaten since she left Vale. It doesn't make the dry heaves any better.

When it's over, she collapses ungracefully against the hard floor. The tiles are cool against her hot skin. Her hair is unbound, and it slides itchy and fine against her neck. Fleetingly she remembers—

— _movie nights in the dorm, chick-flicks and action films Yang's downloaded (illegally) onto her Scroll. Weiss braiding her hair during the quieter scenes, soft cold hands carefully combing out tangles. "Honestly, it'd be so much easier if you put it up when you fight, Blake," she sniffs._

 _Yang laughs, the picture of carefree: long blonde curls tumbling over her shoulders, dressed in holey sweatpants and a worn-out tank top. "Because I haven't heard you complain about split ends and dirt, Ice Queen," she teases._

" _So says the girl who rages when even a hair falls from her head," Weiss shoots back._

 _Ruby yawns and snuggles deeper into her fleece blanket. "You guys should just keep it short like me."_

" _No!" both brawler and heiress snap, scandalized. Blake gives a small smile: for once they agree on something_ —

Blake shuts her eyes against the memory. No more movie nights, not when Beacon is in shambles. Not when Ozpin is nowhere to be found. Not when Yang—

She chokes back a sob. The familiar tide of despair rises in her like an ocean wave. _Not when Yang probably hates me. I don't blame her_.

The moon spills through the small windowpane, its beams shifting over the floor in a shattered mess of shadows and light.

(It feels like the shattered mess of her heart, and Blake feels the first cold tears trace past her cheeks like drops of regret.)


End file.
